


Floating

by nightwise3



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Books, Clowns, Crazy, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Curses, Dead People, Deadlights (IT), Death, Derry (Stephen King), Family, Fanfiction, Gen, Inspired by Stephen King, Inspired by Stephen King's IT, Itchapter2 - Freeform, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Minor Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, My First Fanfic, Original Character(s), Police, Post-Pennywise (IT), Rain, Sad, Scary Clowns, Scary Movies, Stephen King References, Stephen King's IT References, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26280136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwise3/pseuds/nightwise3
Summary: For Paul, Derry was like his old town, Windham, Maine. But when he starts seeing a clown and red balloons all starts to go downhill. Based on the masterpiece by Stephen King, "IT".





	Floating

Prologue: Welcome to Derry

It had been 8 hours since we left our old house in Windham, Maine. My dad had gotten a better job In Derry, Maine. Better job equals better pay. He was a police officer and got stationed here in Derry to be the chief.  
“Look, Honey, we-” My mom stopped mid sentence and turned towards me. For some reason I got goosebumps. She finished her sentence, “are here.” She sighed, “I can already smell the circus. Paul, can you smell the circus?” I didn’t answer, I didn't know what to say.   
She just kept staring at me until my dad piped up “You better answer your damn mom, Paul.” My dad’s 1956 Chevy Sedan hit the curb and we heard the air go out of the tire.  
“God damn it.” my dad said under his breath. My father cursed a lot. I think he liked the feeling but I didn’t know for sure.  
“There is no need to curse, Ron!” My dad's name was Ronald, but my mom liked to call him Ron.  
“Don't you dare tell me what to do!” He lifted his hand and backhanded her. She fell silent. My dad did not hit her often, but every once in a while he does. It was raining really hard outside so my dad grabbed his raincoat and stepped outside to change the tire.   
When I knew he could not hear us, I asked my mom, “Are you ok?” She just looked up and nodded. We sat in silence for 15 minutes until my dad finished changing the tire. He didn't say a word and started driving to our new house, to our new life, and even though I didn't know it yet, my own doom.   
We drove for a little while longer until we passed a little kid peering down in the gutter. Later I learned his name was Georgie Denbrough and we were the last people to see him.   
Then I saw my first red balloon with the saying “Welcome to Derry, Paul.” I closed my eyes knowing that it couldn't be real. When I opened my eyes I saw him for the first time, that stupid ass clown. He was waving not to me but behind me. I looked back and saw that the kid peering down into the gutter had disappeared.  
“Don’t you just love clowns, Paul?” My heart stopped for a second and I turned around. It must have just been a coincidence.   
“Mo-m, y-ou saw i-t to-oo?” I could barely get it out. I was scared half to death.   
“What are you talking about Paul?”  
“W-hy we-re you talk-i-ng about clo-wns th-en?” Knowing what I had seen wasn't the thing that scared me then; it was the fact that my dad was not saying anything and that my mom hadn't answered.   
We fell into silence and no one talked until we got home and my dad said, “We are finally here”. My body loosened and I let out a sigh.  
It was close to 6:45 when we finally got everything into our respective rooms. My room had a beige color on the walls and had a hardwood floor. I got out my memory book. I opened it, my mouth dried up and my head was pounding. I looked at the picture again. My brother who had died (two years ago, one week before my 11th birthday) in a drunk driving incident. He had been driving with his friends when a man named Lewis York hit them and killed them. My brother had been my best friend and even though he was 17, we got along pretty well. The picture was of us at his 16th birthday party. In the picture he was holding a balloon that said Happy Birthday. Something had changed the picture to say the same thing I had just seen on the balloon, “Welcome to Derry, Paul.” I closed it and threw it back in the box.  
I stood there for maybe ten minutes before my dad called “Come get your mattress, Son.” I ran to the living room as fast I could. My dad was setting up our TV when I saw my mattress.   
“Dad, do you expect me to bring this all the way upstairs by myself?”  
“Give me a second,Son.” He hit the TV a couple of times until it turned on, “Finally. Ok, you take the back of the mattress; I will take the top.”   
We started walking to my room when I passed my mom and dad's room. There laying in their bed was my dead brother, blood dripping from the big gash in his head. I dropped the mattress and screamed. But nothing came out, no scream, not even a little squeak. My dad was so oblivious that he hadn't noticed that he was the only one carrying the mattress. Nobody asked if I was ok; no one looked. I looked at my father, but by the time I looked back into their room my brother was gone.   
It was about 7:30 when we ate dinner that night. My mom made my Dad's favorite food, hot dogs and fries. My dad was not by far the most overweight man in the world but he liked non healthy food like chips, hamburgers, and fries just to name a few. Last year he was hospitalized because his heart stopped but the doctor said he should be fine. Sometimes I wish he wasn't fine.   
“Paul, are you ready for school tomorrow?” This seemed like his favorite question, he had asked it more than twice and I always had the same answer for him.  
“Lets hope.” I said with a mouthful of hotdog. When I finished, the clock on the stove said 7:50 and I went to bed dreaming about what life would be if my brother was still alive. He would have been in college. A couple of months before he died he had gotten a full tuition scholarship to University of Idaho. He would have been a Vandal.

PART 1: DERRY

The school year went by super fast. I had my 13th birthday a couple of months ago. It wasn't that bad of a school year. No clowns and no balloons. Sixth period was almost finished when the intercom turned on “Remember, all kids 15 and under have a curfew of 7:30 and have an amazing summer.” My principal, Chris Stevens (or Mr. Stevens if you are not his family) was not very liked; he didn't really care about us kids until he got his paycheck. He also didn't like it when we failed, which I would have done if it hadn't been for Mr. Li. Mr. Li was one of those teachers who actually liked being a teacher. He wasn't hard on us, and if we were one point away from failing he would give us the D-. That's what happened to me.   
The bell rang and that amazing feeling of school being over washed over my body. It was finally summer. I ran out and hopped on the bus. I always sat on the fourth seat back next to the window, usually alone. I put my backpack down between my legs and opened the bus window a little bit more. It was about 86 outside and really sunny with no clouds that the eye could see. I saw a group of friends who most people call the Losers' Club dumping their school supplies in the trash. I knew one from math class. His name was Richie Toizer. He was basically the class clown but most of his jokes were bad. As they were leaving, I saw Henry Bowers and his goons walking up to them and I slid down into my seat so they couldnt see me. He had been looking for me since I had refused to let him use my test to cheat.  
He wanted to and I quote “ Beat your ass and use it as a rag”. The only reason that had not happened yet was that I had stayed close to adults most of the time. I didn’t want him to beat me, especially on the first day of summer. I watched as the tall one, Patrick Hockstetter picked up the Jewish kid’s Kippah and threw it right at the bus. The throw was perfect and it went right through the opening in the window and into my lap. I didn't really know much about Jewish culture, but we had a history lesson about Jewish culture when we learned about the Holocaust. I was thinking about throwing it out the window but thought Henry might see me and I decided to just put it in my pocket. The bus driver started the engine and drove off. That was the last time I would see that school.  
When the bus came to my stop I could see my mom waiting for me with her head down. I ran off the bus and asked her what was wrong. “Your father is dead”, her lip quivering. “He got shot this morning a little after you left as he was walking to his car.” She just stood there crying. I could see people staring as they walked by. I grabbed her hand and ran inside.  
“Mom, is he actually dead?”  
“Yes, Paul.” Still holding her hand I thought to myself, why was I not sad, why was I not crying, I couldn't help but feel happy.   
“Do they know who did it?” I said trying to stop the happiness that was rising inside of me. I bottled it up as best I could but I couldn't hold it in. I ran to the bathroom before my mother could answer me. I got to the bathroom and slammed the door. What the hell was wrong with me, my dad had just died and I didn’t give a shit. I looked into the mirror to find myself smiling. That gave me a chill down my spine and I looked back down at my hands to find them trembling. I looked back to the door and saw writing on it. “You are welcome, Paul, You owe me. From your only friend, Pennywise the Dancing Clown.” I could not move my feet, they wouldn't even move anyway, I thought. My mind was telling me to run but my body said no. We had learned about fight or flight in science class last year, but my body and mind could not choose so I decided to close my eyes for a good while and all I could hear was the substance on the door dripping on to the white carpet in the bathroom. Then it stopped. I slowly opened my eyes to see the same balloon I had seen when I had first got to Derry. “Welcome to Derry, Paul.” Finally my fight kicked in and I grabbed the scissors that were in the bathroom and popped the balloon. I opened the door slowly and saw the clown.   
“Welcome to Derry, Pauly.” He started laughing. Everytime he opened his mouth more and more drool would fly off his huge red lips. “We're gonna have so much fun.” He waved his finger as if he was remembering something “Ah yes, remember to come down to the sewer cause we all float down there. Oh and another thing I can’t wait to kill all the rest of your shitty family. I'm already two down.” He was talking about my brother. I couldn't take it anymore and ran back to the bathroom and sat there crying not about my father but about my brother, Zac, and how I really wished he was here to help me.  
My mom broke my sob fest when she knocked on the door to say “Are you ok in there, Honey?” I didn't answer. I just opened the door and for a few seconds I swear I could see that clown's bright orange hair. I ran upstairs to my room tripping on my feet as I ran up. A sheering sharp pain ran down my foot. I heard the f-word slip out. I had stubbed my toe. The stairs stopped right before my room and I had gotten used to just turning the corner. Too bad I had turned the corner a little too early. My mom called out from the bottom of the stairs, “Honey, I know it's hard but you really shouldn't use that language”. I didn't answer her, I just ran back into my room and shut the door.  
When I looked down at the doorknob my heart froze. Then it started beating again thump pause thump pause thump thump thump thump. I calmed my body down and took my hand off the doorknob. The doorknob was bloody and dripping all over my floor, but when I looked at my hand the blood had disappeared. I tried not to think of it and grabbed the rag I had on my dresser and wrapped it around the doorknob to stop any more blood from getting on the floor.  
I went to my bed and laid down, staring at my ceiling. All I could think about was his eyes, his silver dollar eyes, his big orange pom poms his stupid shoes. So I did the only thing I could to take my mind off it. I turned on the radio to my favorite station 81.7 Derry. My dad got me a radio for my 13th birthday, and I have used it ever since. Music helped to take my mind off things. Elvis was one of my favorites. His voice and melody always calmed me down. Lucky enough they were playing one of my favorite songs, “Jailhouse Rock”. I turned the radio up so loud I couldn't even hear my own thoughts. I started to feel better until I heard, “Let's rock everybody, let's rock everybody in the whole cell block was dancin' to the Jailhouse rock. Sad Sack was sittin' on a block of stone way over in the corner weepin' all alone. The warden said, Hey, Paul, don't you be no square if you can't find a partner, use Zac’s corpse and float with the rest of us.” I took my baseball bat that I got for Christmas and swung as hard as I could at the radio. It flew across the room and smacked the wall with a loud bang. BIts of the radio flew all over my room. I thought it was over until I heard the radio croak out, “You'll float someday. Bitch”. I stood frozen watching the radio expecting the clown to emerge from the radio but it never did. Finally I recovered and sat back down on my bed and cried.  
I cried not for my brother not for my dad but for myself. Why couldn't I just have died? Why can’t that clown just kill me? I was starting to think of suicide but knew how hurt my mom was gonna be. When my brother died she almost killed all of us when she had accidentally used spoiled beans. Thank God my dad saw the can and smacked my plate out of my hands. I saw my mom get beat for the first time that night. I pushed that thought out of my mind. I looked at the radio and sighed. I picked up all the bits and pieces and threw it into the closet and looked out the window and into the next door neighbors house.   
The Denbroughs lived there, I had seen their oldest, Bill, at school every once in a while walking to class. My mom had told me to go over there and make friends with him, but I always said “He already has friends. They're called the Losers' Club or at least that's what people call them.” I always would think, if they're losers then what did that make me. I had an answer, an outcast no one gave a damn about.   
Bill’s little brother, Georgie, had gone missing when we had moved here, and I think he blamed us for his brother's disappearance. I laid back down on my bed and stared out the window. I thought well at least you still have a family. I went to sleep at 5:18 that night.  
The doorbell woke me up. I waited to see if my mom was going to grab it, but it kept ringing. I sat up on my bed and yelled, “Coming.” I ran back down the stairs and checked the clock. It was 7:46. It was too late to be the mailman I thought as I opened the door. It was the Denbroughs. I could see the looks in their eyes, they came about my father.  
“We heard about your father. It's horrible, isn't it Bill?” Bill's mother, I can't quite remember her name, had super blonde hair. She was a housewife just like my mom, except now she had a husband and my mom didn’t. Bill’s dad was Zach, whose name I did know because he worked on our electricity a couple of times. He worked as an electrician for the Bangor Hydroelectric (one of Derry’s main hydropower corporations). Bill had the same blue eyes as Zach but Bill had his mother's face. One thing Bill didn't have in common with his parents was that he had a stutter; it had gotten worse and worse after his brother went missing.  
“I-I-Im so s-sor-rry, m-man.” I wonder sometimes if it's fake. If it is, he does an amazing job.  
“Is your mom in there? Is she ok?” Bill’s dad asked. I thought about it and decided to let them in.   
“MOM!” I yelled. I didn't know where she or if she was even here. I started to say that she must not be here when I heard a clunk from the basement. Pennywise had been out of my mind until I heard that. My blood stopped. It was my mom emerging from the basement.   
“Yes Paul?” She stops and looks at the Denbroughs, “Uh, Sorry I wasn't expecting any company.” She started rushing around trying to clean as fast as she could.  
“It’s-s ok m-a-am. We were ju-s-s-st stopp-p-ping by to-o see i-i-if you guys ar-r-e o-o-k.” Bill finished the sentence with a smile. My mom just looked at Bill and sighed.  
“Paul took it the worst, but I think he is fine.” I had forgotten that I had been crying in the bathroom earlier that day. I started feeling angry that she had thought I was crying for that bastard.  
I replied to her, “I’m fine, Mom.” I thought they were going to leave after that. Turns out I was right. As they were walking out the door, Bill’s mom stopped.  
She asked, “Bill wanted to ask you if you would go on a bike ride with him tomorrow.”. I thought about it for a second. I thought, was there really any choice but yes?  
I replied, “Ya, sure. I guess it will be good to get my mind off things. What time?” Really I just wanted to go to get out of the house, but I wasn't going to say that.  
“Do-e-es twe-e-lv-lve work for yo-u-u?” I thought about it and remembered it was summer break. I didn't have anything else going on.  
“Yah. I guess I will see you tomorrow.” I tried putting on my best fake smile, but I don't think it fooled anyone.  
They waved goodbye and closed the door. My mom headed back down to the basement and I headed back into my room and into my bed. I looked over into my closet and saw my radio. It was sitting atop all the bits and pieces that flew everywhere after I hit it. I thought to myself what a complete waste of a good radio. After that I turned back over to my window and drifted off the sleep. I dreamed of what it would be like if Zac, who coincidentally had the same name as Bill’s dad except they were spelled differently, was still alive. I don’t think much would change seeing as he would be in college but at least I could have still seen him open the present I got him for Christmas. It was a baseball card signed by his favorite player Sandy Koufax. I saved my allowance for a few years to buy it for him. It wasn't in the best condition but it still had the name Koufax written in blue ink written on it. I got it a few months before my birthday which was nowhere close to Christmas, unless you were counting backwards. After he died, I sold it for 100 bucks. It paid for cab tickets to go see his grave. So maybe he did profit from the baseball card after all.  
The clown never left my mind that night while I was dreaming. Why didn't he just kill me, he clearly has some kind of powers. He had gotten into my house unnoticed, my mom somehow didn't hear or see it, he got into my radio and changed the song. He also knew Zac’s name. Why did I have to be afraid of clowns?  
I awoke the next morning with a horrible headache. I turned on my side and looked back into my closet once more. I saw the radio I had destroyed, all together again. What the, I thought. I got out of my bed and grabbed it from atop my mound of dirty clothes that had been there for many weeks. I put it back on my dresser and turned it on. It worked! I was glad, but I was also scared. I had completely destroyed it last night. I decided I didn't want to go through that again and I left it.   
I hopped in the shower and remembered that I had a bike ride with Bill. I got out of the shower half naked, “MOM.” I yelled down the stairs.  
“Yes hon?” she yelled back.  
“What time is it?”  
“Umm, half past ten.”  
“Thanks.” I dried off with a towel and got dressed. I looked in the mirror and laughed. God, was I ugly. My brunette hair didn’t match my white skin nor did my skin match my eyes, which are blue. I took my comb and combed my hair straight down my eyes. I could feel the tickle of my hair brushing up against my eyes.  
I put on my plain green shirt and my shorts and went downstairs to see what was for breakfast. I don’t know what I expected but my mom didn't make anything. I looked around the house for her but couldn’t find her. I decided to just have some of my Corn Chex for breakfast. As I was pouring my cereal I saw a bug crawl out of my bowl. By the time I looked at the bug in my bowl I had swatted it away. I checked the clock, 11:15, I had 45 minutes until the bike ride. I hated thinking of it as a playdate or hanging out. I didn’t want to hangout with him, even though I wanted friends, and clearly he didn’t either. I decided to use these 45 minutes to find my mom, if she was in the house.   
I tried downstairs first because that was the only place I had not looked. My basement was creepy. I rarely went down there but I had to find her so I had to get my courage up. It was completely pitch black in the basement. I put my right foot on the basement steps. CREAK. I put my left foot on the next step. CREAK. I did that over and over again until I got to the bottom of the stairs. I knew that the light switch was on the other side of the room. I got ready. I sprinted across the room. As I was running I hit something and fell on my butt. I could feel the air seep out of my lungs. I started crawling on my hands and knees to the light switch. I started feeling up on the wall and I finally found the light switch. I flipped it on.  
I looked around the room to see what I had hit. There was nothing. No obstacles, nothing that would have knocked the wind out of me. I stood up and called for my mom. Nothing. She wasn't here. I realized I could have just called for her from the top of the stairs. Man was I stupid. I decided to leave the light on so I could actually see where I was going. I started walking and it happened again. I hit something and it threw me back. This time my head hit the wall and I blacked out. As my body shut down I could see it. The clown. The one that calls himself Pennywise.   
When I came to the lights were back off. I stood up and felt my head. I had a bump the size of a small golf ball. Goddamnit, I thought, I was just about to go hang out with Bill. That's when I heard the doorbell ring. I decided that if I walked slowly maybe I could feel this invisible obstacle in my way. As I reached what I thought was the middle I tensed up expecting to hit something but I didn’t. I just kept walking. When I reached the bottom of the stairs I ran up to the top. My head was still hurting. I yelled at the door, “I will be out in a second.” I then remembered the bump on the back of my head. I decided that I was going to put on a hat to cover up the bump. I ran up the stairs to my closet and found my Boston Red Sox hat. The hat was given to me a couple of years ago for Christmas by my dad. No time for lingering, I thought and headed back downstairs. I couldn't help but wonder where my mother was. My next thought frightened me. Maybe she was dead. I put that out of my head and put on my shoes. I grabbed my bike and took a deep breath. Social interaction, something I was not good at. Yay, I said in my mind sarcastically.

PART 2: THE HOUSE ON NEIBOLT STREET

“I-Is it o-ok i-i-if Rich-c-chie comes with u-u-us.” Bill said. With his stutter it was hard to make out the words, but I could make out “Richie come with us”. What choice did I have? Richie was already there sitting on his bike expecting me to say no and for me to tell him he would have to bike back home. I had never been this close to Richie before. He had very box-like glasses that covered up half his face. His hair was darker than mine and his eyes were bluer than mine.   
“Ya that’s fine.”   
“We can’t ride long, we have to meet some people.” Richie said in his best Shelley Berman impression. It was a horrible impression. I had seen Berman’s stand up on TV once.   
“Y-y-ya sorry abo-o-out that.” Again Bill smiles. This one seemed more fake then the one last night, but I didn’t give that a thought.  
“I probably have to get home soon anyway, well after we ride anyway.” Bill had the best looking bike out of all of us. HIs bike was a new model, a 1959 Jaguar Mark IV. He said he bought it for 24 dollars but I knew that was a lie. It was a new model and his family had a lot more money then mine did so he could buy better stuff. Richie was the first to start riding. We started riding down Witcham Street. This was the same street where Bill’s younger brother, Georgie, was last seen and the street we lived on.  
“HI HO SILVER ,AWAY” Bill yelled at the top of his lungs. It was the first time I had seen Bill not stutter. It felt weird and made me shudder.  
“Do you always have to fucking say that?” Richie replied to Bill.  
“I-i-it helps me to-o go fas-st-ster.” Bill wasn't lying; he started going a lot faster than me and Richie.  
“Wait the hell up, Bill.” Bill started slowing down. I was the first out of us to spot Henry Bowers and his goons.  
“Guys, there's Henry.” I pointed down Witcham street.   
“Ah shit Bill what do we do?” I thought it was kinda dumb to have Bill answer since he had a stutter but clearly Richie had a lot of trust in him.  
“L-Lets go down this s-t-treet.” I knew the street he was pointing to. Everyone knew this street. It was the street where the hobos and junkies lived. West Broadway used to be a busy street but after the big flood people left Derry. We learned about the flood during Derry history 101 in school. It was a boring class because most of Derry's history was lost after every flood.   
We were all hesitant to go down the street. We had all heard stories. I didn’t believe them but knew they could be true. We decided that we would rather take this chance then deal with Henry Bowers. We started riding, pedaling as fast as we could until we got to the end of Broadway. We caught our breath for a few seconds before crossing the street to the other end.   
“Richie wh-what time is i-i-it?”  
“Twelve thirty. We gotta go Bill.” They both looked at me.  
I shrugged and said, “I will be fine. See you guys some other time.”   
“Ya, right,” Richie said laughing.  
“Beep be-beep Ri-ichie.” Bill once again looked at me and smiled; this one was different though, it might have been real. I wouldn't know. I never talked to them again. They waved goodbye and were off. I decided I would ride my bike down the street then back to my house. I knew the way as I had gone this way before. I started riding down Kansas street when I passed the Neibolt street church. I had gone in when we first moved here but never went back. I mostly never wanted to go back as the abandoned house near it always gave me the creeps. I had once seen a man crawl out from under the house and had never wanted to go near that place again. I decided today I would face those fears. I walked past the line that divided Kansas Street and Neibolt Street. I felt like I had gone invisible in that instance. It felt good but also scary. I wondered how fear and happiness could correspond in the same universe. I laughed at myself for getting so deep. Getting deep was for deep thinkers, which I am not. Having a short attention span doesn't help.   
As I was about to head back out into the street I saw my dad waving his head back and forth inside the Neibolt house. I stopped dead in my tracks and looked in the house. I could see that he wasn't actually dead, I thought as I found my body start to lurch forward towards the house.  
I felt something brush up against my calves. I jumped farther towards the house and tripped over a sewer drain. I looked over to my left and looked at what had brushed up against me. It was a cat. A goddamn cat scared me. I should have known that it was a cat. The cat had dark green eyes and a pristine black coat, weird for a stray. I thought as it laid down in the street. I had a cat when I was 8, but he sadly left and never came back.   
Bang. I jumped again, Jesus what is up with me and jumping today. I looked at where the sound came from. It came from inside the house. Oh shit, I thought, I had forgotten about my father. I looked through the window. I could see him better now that I was closer. I could see he had a piece of duct tape on his mouth. He was bleeding from the head. I didn’t know what to do. The cat started moving to the base of his house then headed under the porch and disappeared.   
I looked back to the window to find my dad gone. I decided to go find him in the house. As I was walking my shirt caught on one of the metal fence posts and I ripped it loose. My shirt now had a hole in it and I found myself sweating profusely. The house had been abandoned for years or so my dad told me. I could see the house had collapsed a little and was sinking inward. I looked at it again, it almost looked like it was smiling. That gave me the creeps.  
Creeeeaaaak. The front door swung open to reveal a lone balloon. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I screamed. I jumped to the side and fell on my butt in the grass. I felt a searing pain down my left butt cheek. I had fallen on a broken bottle. With my left butt cheek bleeding I stood up and looked for the person who had scared me so bad. I found him standing there looking at me. An older looking man who looked like he had been alive when America was founded.  
“Do you have any change, little boy?” He spoke with a gritty tone. He had the same crystal blue eyes as my father and the same hairstyle. There was no mistake that he looked like my father but he didn’t talk like my father and my father was not poor.  
“Jesus, sorry sir I don’t have any.” I answered. My voice was shaky and my left hand was dripping in blood. The crimson color of the blood dripped on the dead grass, if you could even call it that, leaving a trail of red wherever I went. I looked down at the trail and saw that the cat from earlier was licking up the blood.  
“Hey, ChaChi, stop that.” The man said as he started to walk over. One of his rags caught on the posts and tore off. As it fell off I saw the clown's silver shirt. The man looked at me and the man’s face changed.  
“Oh, are you so surprised?” my dad's voice came booming from the clown’s mouth. “Why won’t you float with me. Your brother did.” I was horrified. He somehow could sense this and started laughing. Then he started singing, “I ate your brother, your stupid big brother. Oh he tasted good that's why I needed more. That's why I killed your father, now he has become no more.” I started to run. I jumped back on my bike and started to pedal. I looked back to see if he was following me. The cat he called ChaChi was lying dead having its back torn off by the clown. The clown was staring at me with his head cocked to the side. Most likely the dead cat’s guts hung from his mouth. I pedaled faster and faster. I got to the church, turned the corner and started to head up Kansas Street.  
I got another searing pain down my left leg. I was still bleeding heavily. I thought about going to the police but who would believe me. Maybe I was just crazy. Maybe there is no clown and it's just my imagination. I had not seen my brother, I had not seen my dad in the window. They were both dead. “THEY’RE BOTH DEAD GODDAMNIT.” I screamed that in my head but I might have also screamed it out loud. People started looking at me.  
One protective mother covered her kids ear’s and said, “Say that foul language somewhere else.” I guess I had said it aloud. Embarrassed, I pedaled faster and faster till my leg started going numb.   
I went down West Broadway again because it was the fastest way home. I didn't stop pedaling until I saw Bill’s house in the distance. I got off my bike and decided to walk the rest of the way. Limping all the way back home was not going to be easy. But I felt if I pedaled anymore my leg would fall off or go completely numb. I stopped to catch my breath. My nose wrinkled up like an old apricot. I was smelling the smoke from the cigarette that Mr. Blanc, Bill’s other neighbour, was smoking. He dropped his beer bottle and it shattered. I hated the smell of cigarettes and told myself I never would smoke. I knew I would, though, as everyone smoked no matter how bad it was for you.   
“What the hell is wrong with you, Skip.” Mr. Blanc yelled, pointing at me. I couldn’t speak, my heart was still thumping like it was at a garage band, my lungs were as dry as the grass in front of the house on Neibolt street, and my mind was still racing trying to figure out what had happened.   
“If you ain’t gonna answer, get the fuck off my lawn.” He finished off his statement by throwing his cigarette butt at me. I wasn't even on his lawn. I was still on the sidewalk. It didn’t matter, I decided to keep moving. I had heard Mr. Blanc had a shotgun, I wasn’t going to find out. I was almost to my house when I heard something from Bill’s garage.   
I heard Bill say “Wherever IT happens, it’s all connected by the sewers.” Could they be talking about the clown? I couldn't help but feel relieved that I wasn’t crazy, but it also made me more scared because that meant that he was real.  
I heard another kid say “The well house!”   
“The house on Neibolt Street.” There was no mistake that that voice was Stanley Barber’s, the Jewish kid that had lost his Kippah a couple days ago. I could hear his voice shake.  
“Tha-at’s where IT lives.”   
“That’s where I saw it. That's where I saw the clown.” I didn’t know who said that, but I heard a huff of breath almost like the person had asthma.  
I started running back to my house, still limping as my leg gave way. I fell down and grabbed the gardening ledge in front of my front yard. I pulled myself up and limped to my bike which I had dropped in front of Bill’s house. I heard screaming coming from the garage. My mind was racing and my adrenaline kicked in. I ran limping back into my house. I dropped my bike in my front lawn and ran into my house. My mom opened the door and I plowed into her knocking both of us down.   
“Paul?” She looked at my left leg and yelled, “What happened to you, did you get beat up again?” I was about to reply no when I realized how she wouldn’t believe me if I said I saw Dad and he was tied up but he turned into a balloon. Then I saw a homeless guy turn into a clown and eat a cat.   
“No, Mom. I fell on a broken bottle and cut my leg. I'm fine.” That was a lie but I wasn't going to tell her the truth. It was too late and she was already looking at my leg.  
“Paul, you are not ok. Your leg is bleeding.” I crawled onto the couch. I was still bleeding. Now that I wasn't walking or riding my bike my leg felt a lot better. I could hear the irritation in my mom’s voice when she said, “Paul, we need to get in the car and go to the emergency room. No ifs or buts we are going and that's that.” There was no need to argue with her. I could see in her eyes that there was no arguing with her.   
“Fine. Where were you this morning? I was looking for you.”   
“Sorry Hon, I probably should have told you. I went to the police station. They wanted to tell me that your father's body had gone missing last night.” Could the clown just have taken the body and was just some kind of psycho. I didn’t think that was true though. I think psychos draw the line at cats. I thought all of this as I was walking to the car. I opened the car door and I saw Bill and his friends, The Losers’ Club, riding their bikes down the street I had just come back from. I put my head on the headrests and sighed.   
My mom started the engine and pushed the gas pedal. I found the outside calming. I looked at the watch that used to be my father’s. He must have left it in the car the day before he. I stopped mid sentence. I decided it didn’t matter what happened to him because he was gone, he was dead. Just like my brother. I looked at the clock. The tick tick movement of the second hand mesmerized me. Why couldn’t life be like a hand on a clock. Nothing disrupted it. It didn’t need friends, even though it had them. It didn’t need to do anything but tick. It also didn’t need to worry about clowns or as Bill called it “IT”. We passed my school, we passed the library and we passed the bus terminal. I sat there in the car and looked straight outside. I thought to myself, this is a beautiful town. Don’t get me wrong but man does it have a dark side.   
“Mom, why did we have to move here? I liked it back in Windham. I actually had friends.”  
“You know honey if you gave people an actual chance maybe you would have friends.” I hate to admit it but she was right, I never actually talked to people and if someone talked to me I would ignore them.  
“A week ago I tried talking to someone but they just moved past me. Wait, no it was two weeks ago.”   
“I know it’s hard, Honey, but you have to try.” She never took her eyes off the road when she was talking to me. I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I didn’t want to talk about my faults. We were almost to the hospital when I passed out. It felt good to sleep. It felt good to rest my body.  
I don’t remember much after I blacked out, seeing as I basically got knocked out, but I had time to think about where my fear of clowns came from. I mostly remember the 1954 Halloween party that my family got invited to. I went as Superman, my favorite superhero at the time. My brother went as a rat. He had a big fear of rats, so did my mom, but I think he felt that if he went as a rat he wouldn’t be afraid of them anymore. At the time I had no real fear, no definitive fear. One of Zac’s friends decided to be a clown for Halloween. He was a clown in real life too. I had decided to get fresh air a little after the party started. Windham was a lot like Derry the more I thought about it. The cold winters and the rainy springs. One thing that they had different from each other is, in Derry I feared for my life and in Windham I never had to once.  
I was sitting on one of the rocks next to a huge bush. It was one of those bushes that people carved sculptures out of. It was a cold night so I remember seeing my breath in the air. I heard rustling in the bushes so I stood up. I was a confident 7 year old, nothing could get in my way. So I stood up and yelled into the bushes, “You can’t scare me but nice try though.” No one came out and I was starting to get scared. I was about to run inside when a clown jumped out of the bushes. I knew it was one of Zac’s friends so I said, “Leave me alone.” The clown then ran towards me. The kid was about 5 foot 8 and towered over me. He was so close to my face that I could tell that he had been smoking.   
“Oh I was just gonna see if you wanted to come in my van and we could drive away forever.” He started laughing. My hands started shaking, and I ran inside crying. I think back on it and laugh at how dumb it was to go back in the party screaming and crying. Zach had grabbed me and dragged me into one of the bedrooms. He asked me what was wrong so I told him. He calmed me down and made me feel safe. He had brought some cards from home, so we played through the rest of the party. That was the first night that Zach and I had become friends.  
I awoke in the hospital bed. I looked around and spotted my mom, “Mom, how long was I out?” She screamed, I couldn't tell if it was because of happiness or fear, but she ran over and gave me a hug.   
“Only a couple of hours. They stitched you back up. Do you feel better?” She had run out the room and was frantically calling for a nurse. While she was yelling like a crazy person I peered down at my leg. Where there had been blood and an open cut now showed stitches that would lead to a scar. I realized I would always look down at that scar and remember the clown. All the memories of today flooded back into my mind.   
I looked out the window hoping it would take my mind off the cut and the memories. As I was trying to get settled my mom burst in with my doctor Dr. Muscraw.   
“Why hello there, Paul, how are you feeling?” I knew how I was feeling, pretty confused about this whole damn town.   
“Feeling a lot better. Thank you sir.” That was an even bigger lie. My whole left side felt like it was on fire.  
“Well, Mrs. Sainx, I will prescribe some pain medication, but Paul here should stay off his leg for a while.” Mr. Muscraw was a little smaller than my dad but had a lot more muscle than him. His muscles bulged out of his shirt.   
I hated taking medications. I had a hard time swallowing pills. When I was six years old, I had cut my foot on a nail that was sticking out of the floorboards. Mom gave me some pills to take, I had taken both at the same time and they got lodged in my throat. I have been scared of pills ever since.  
After the doctor gave my mom my pills I sat up and put my shoes and socks on. My leg still ached but it felt good to start walking on it. The doctor said that I needed to rest for at least for one month.   
The doctor called for a nurse to get me a wheelchair which was very unnecessary seeing as I could walk completely fine a few seconds ago. I didn’t tell him this because I didn’t feel like walking.   
When the nurse got here I saw the wheel chair. It had cracks in the chair where some of the patients had picked at it. The big silver wheels made me think of the clown's big silver eyes, which made my spine tingle. I was sitting in the chair when I felt something grab my leg. I lifted my leg up and screamed.   
My mom ran over to me, “Paul are you ok.”  
“Mom, something grabbed me.” I was hyperventilating, I thought I might pass out again.  
“Honey nothing grabbed you. There is no one else in this room except us.” pointing around the room. “You ready to go home, Bud?” I sat back down and breathed. I breathed in the good air then blew the bad air out. I nodded my head. I was ready to go home, I was ready to be in my own bed, I was ready to eat some food. My mom grabbed the handles on the back of my wheelchair and pushed me down the hall to the elevator.   
As we passed a room labeled surgery I saw the clown's bright orange hair sticking out of the surgeon's cap. I then heard the last sound my brother ever heard, a flatline. My mom pushed the elevator going down button and we heard the whirring of the gears as the elevator descended down to our floor. When it got here the elevator doors opened with a screech. My mom pushed me in first and turned me around so I was facing out into the hallway. As the doors were closing I saw the clown come out of the surgery room and wave at me. I felt my body go limp again as the doors closed with a ka thunk and we descended downwards.   
I always hated elevators, I hated the feeling of falling. I didn’t have a fear of heights but I didn’t like going down. When we reached the bottom floor the elevator bounced up and down then stood still. I thought I was going to throw up. My mom grabbed the handles again and started pushing me out the doors of the hospital. It was windy which was not uncommon for Derry. I could feel the wind push against me making a subtle but nice breeze.   
When we reached my mom’s car, she pushed me around to my side and helped me into my seat. Then she folded up the wheelchair and put it into the back of the car. “Paul, Honey, I'm gonna have to get a job. We will have to make money somehow.” I just nodded and looked down at my hands. For the first time since his death I wished my father was still alive.   
My mom started the car and reversed the car out of the hospital. As we were driving back home I said. “Mom, do you miss both of them?” It was a stupid question. I knew that, but I thought hearing that she cared about both of them would make me feel better.  
“Paul. I think you already know the answer to that question.” She said again not taking her eyes off the road.   
“I know. I just wanted to hear you say you did care about them.” I said, also not taking my eyes off the road.   
“Paul. Your brother and father both loved you a lot. Even when they didn’t show it.” She paused, “You wanna know something. Love is the most powerful thing in the world. Love can bring nations together, it can bring families torn apart together. I promise you they are both looking down on us. We need to continue to love them so they know that they are missed, so that they can stay alive inside our hearts.” This time she took her eyes off the road and looked me in the eyes. “We need to keep the good memories inside our brain and the bad ones out. I know your father loved you so much, even though he was a real asshole sometimes, he really did love you. I also know for a fact that your brother loved you so much more than your dad or me could have, and I know that he is proud of what you have become.”   
I started to cry. When finished I saw that we were home and that my mother had started crying too. I hugged her and didn’t let go. When she finished my mom repeated, “Love is the strongest thing on earth. Now let's get you inside.” She smiled and kissed my forehead. I smiled for the first time in a long time of pure happiness and I forgot all of my troubles with the clown. My mom grabbed the wheelchair and unfolded it. She pushed it up to my seat and I climbed in. Her phrase stuck in my head for a while. “Love is the strongest thing on earth.”

Part 3 : Love 

My one-month recovery was finally over. It was August and that meant that school was starting soon. I walked down the stairs for the first time in awhile and saw my mom making pancakes.  
“Morning Sweetheart, how is your leg?” My mother had gotten a job at the local diner in a town over to help pay the bills. She had learned to make some of the best pancakes I have ever had. She usually didn’t get home until late, but today was her day off.  
“I’m doing better. Can you drop me off at the library later? I want to grab a book,” I said half asleep. I was telling the truth. My leg did feel better. I stopped taking the pain medications because they were making me puke so I just let nature take its course.  
“I can take you to the library after you eat the pancakes I made for you,” She said almost singing. I sat down and grabbed a fork from the middle of the table. She set the pancakes down in front of my face and smiled. That was weird, she usually wasn't this happy.  
“Mom, where's the butter?” She pointed me in the direction of the butter. I grabbed it and spread the butter on my pancakes.   
Once I finished, I thanked her and ran back up the stairs to take my shower. I turned on the water but nothing came out. I hit the showerhead, and it sputtered, but still nothing came out. I waited and waited. Finally water started coming out slowly at first but then more and more water started shooting like daggers against my back. The water was cold. They had cut our hot water so we only had cold water. It wasn't freezing but it wasn't warm either. I didn’t take a long shower.  
I got dressed and found my mom downstairs. “Mom, I think i'm going to take my bike to the library. You stay here and rest,” I said smiling. She turned towards me and thanked me. I grabbed my bike and left the house. I realized I hadn't ridden my bike since the incident. I remembered everything once more and it gave me a shiver down my spine.  
It was another nice sunny day. The leaves were starting to turn brown. As I was riding my bike, I looked up to the sky and saw a cloud. My hands started getting sweaty, and my brain started pounding in my head. I could swear that the cloud was in the shape of the clown. I looked down at my hands to find sweat dripping from them. I looked back at it and found it looked more like a tree. My brain stopped thumping and my hands dried back up like a sponge. False alarm, I thought to myself.   
I hadn't seen or heard from the clown since the Neibolt house. I hoped that he had moved, but I knew deep down that he hadn't.   
When I finally got to the library I found it packed with people, but that’s ok because I wasn't there to stay. I looked to the back past all the books to find the painting that always gave me the creeps. It was a painting of a woman holding a baby near a well. I always felt like it was watching me.  
I was there to find the History of Derry book. I wanted to see if I could connect the clown to anything.  
I walked up to the librarian and asked, “Ma’am, do you have a history of Derry, book here?” I pointed to the books.  
“Oh, sorry kid. A kid named Ben Hanscom checked it out earlier this summer and hasn't given it back.” She smiled directly at me and directly into my soul. I was starting to get the creeps so I walked out of the library and back to my bike.   
Ben Hanscom had been the other new kid. We had moved here at the same time but we lived too far away to get to know each other. He seemed cool though, I said in my head as my bike speed foreword.   
I got to my house pretty quick as it was mostly downhill going back to my house. I parked my bike on the side of the house and ran back up the steps. When I got to the house the door was half cracked open. Weird, I thought, she must have forgotten to close the door when she left. The lights were off. My heart started to beat faster and faster. I yelled, “Mom, are you in here?” No reply. I started to get scared. I felt for the light switch on the wall. I found it and flipped it on.  
I tried screaming. Nothing came out, not even a squeak. When I turned on the light, there laying on the floor was my mother. Her midsection had been taken from the rest of her body. She had bite marks all over the rest of her body. I fell to my knees. I couldn't believe it. The clown had taken the only family I had left. I just wanted to sit there and cry.   
I looked at her once more and saw a message written with her blood on our new white wallpaper. It said, “ Three down one more to go. From your best pal, Pennywise the Dancing Clown.” I felt my body fill with rage. All I wanted to do was kill that damn clown. I knew I had to call the cops though so I picked myself up enough to call the police. I took the house phone and called them.  
“Yes, hello what is your emergency.”  
“My m-mom is dead.”   
“Don’t call here again. Otherwise you will float.” The person on the other end started laughing. I couldn't hold in my anger anymore, I grabbed my bike and peddled to the house where the clown lived. The house on Neibolt Street.  
I was turning the corner on West Broadway when I saw the Losers' Club. There were six of them that I could see. The ones that I knew were Bill, Ben, Richie, and Stan. There were two more. I had never seen one of them before; he was black and had a belt around his body like an ammo carrier. The second one was a little shorter than everyone else. I decided that I would follow the Losers' Club, because maybe they knew where to go.   
I saw Bill putting some of the fence posts in his bag. I didn’t know what they planned to do with it. To be honest I didn’t know what I was going to do either. I heard a big crash as Richie had tried smashing a bottle. It didn’t break. He had broken off the whole bottom of it. It was only the barrel at the top of the bottle now. I laughed for the first time in awhile.   
I saw the guy with the ammo take what looked like a bolt gun and put one of his ammo cartridges in. I saw Bill get up and walk to the door. I decided to move a little closer and moved three bushes forward. There was one more bush covering me otherwise I would have been seen.   
The group all stepped into the house except who I think was Stan. I couldn’t tell what they were saying but they convinced him. Then they all disappeared into the house. I stayed put for a couple more seconds to give them a little more of a head start. That's when I saw Henry Bowers get out of his car. He was seemingly drenched in blood. I looked to where he came from and saw that he had killed two of his friends. They were skinned from what I could see. My God, I think he is a lunatic now, I said in my head. I saw him step into the house and disappear.   
I also gave him a few seconds before I stepped out from the bush. I shook my leg because it had fallen asleep. When I could feel it not tingle anymore, I ran up to the front door. I put my right foot on the first floor board then I put my left foot on the next one.  
The inside of the house was just as bad, if not worse than the outside. The inside gave me the chills and made me feel uneasy. I looked to my left and saw the biggest number of spider webs I had ever seen. Inside the webs was a hand that looked like it had been chewed on for ages. There was a piano on my right side. I saw the lid of the piano open. I walked to the piano and closed the lid. I walked over to the next room. I looked back at the lid and saw that it was open again. I started to sweat.  
A scream pulled me from the piano. I followed the sound. I found myself in a kitchen. I could see a white fridge with what I could only guess was blood dripping from inside. I didn’t dare open it. I saw a door that took me downstairs to the basement. I laid down on my stomach and watched as Henry Bowers had the bolt gun to the black kid’s face. I heard someone yell “Mike” and assumed that that was his name. I saw Henry pull the trigger, but Mike had moved his face away from the bolt. My fist was clenched and was now turning white. I unraveled my fingers. I saw Mike's hand move and find a rock. Mike swung the rock and hit Henry right in the forehead. Henry started staggering. Mike backed up and charged like a rhino. He knocked Henry down into the well. I couldn’t see him, but I could tell that it was deep. I had to cover my mouth so I didn’t gasp out loud. I didn’t know how to feel. They had killed a man.   
Mike started to climb down the rope. I heard murmuring from the well but couldn't tell what was being said. When I couldn’t hear them anymore I got off my stomach and brushed my pants off. I started walking down the stairs when a step broke and my foot disappeared into the step. I pulled my foot out but not before it was cut in several places. I finally made it to the well and peered down. I couldn’t see the bottom. It was too dark. I smacked myself on forehead, in all my rage I had forgotten to grab a flashlight. I thought about going back home and sitting on the couch waiting for someone to notice that my mother was dead when I heard another scream come from inside the well. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I grabbed the rope and headed down the well.  
I saw an opening in the side of the well and decided that they had gone through here. My hands had started to blister from the rope. I felt if I did anymore climbing my blisters would start bleeding. I headed down the hole. I thought about what I would do when I got to the Losers' Club and based on their screaming, Pennywise. I decided I would think about that when the time came. I had finally reached the end of the tunnel and found a three foot drop from the tunnel to the ground. I looked back once more and decided there was no going back. I put my feet down and jumped. I landed with a splash and was suddenly standing in some sort of water.   
I felt something hit my leg and I jumped. I looked at what had touched my leg and found a skull. When I found that skull, many more started popping out of the water. I started running to the nearest dry land. I tripped on what I thought was a pelvis and took a mouth full of water. This made me throw up. When I finally finished throwing up I heard screaming. “Stanley.” was all I could make out as the whole sewer was ringing from it. I got up following the sound and came across a door that was half open. I peered inside and found the Loser’s Club running into another tunnel screaming, “Bill”.   
I spotted a flashlight that one of them must have left behind. I grabbed it. I found myself in a much bigger room than where I had been. In the middle was a pile of chains hanging from the ceiling. I could see water dripping from them. I thought I must have been in some sort of sewer. The water had thinned and now I could see the ground. I walked over to the chain and wiggled it. It didn’t make a sound. It was silent. I took the chain one more time and slammed it against the other chains. Still no sound. More and more water started to drip out from the top.  
The flashlight went out. I hit it, and it turned back on. I continued following the screaming. Then the screaming stopped. I spotted the door that they must have gone through swung open. I decided to try and find a different way in. I turned right and found another door. I pushed on it and it swung open revealing the back of what looked like a mound of toys. I looked up, my leg started to shake, and my hands started to become sweaty again. My mouth went dry and I crumbled to the floor.  
The kids. The missing kids. The missing kids were floating. They were floating up. The clown wasn't lying. They were floating to the sky. The sound of a bolt gun snapped me out of my daze. I peeked around the toys and saw them, the Loser’s Club. There was another person, a girl with them. I thought to myself, how the hell did she get in here? I saw a little kid that I recognized laying on the floor. I recognized him. He was Bill’s brother, Georgie. Good, they found him. But how did he survive down here with no food or water. I got my answer a few seconds later.   
The kid started to shake. Then one arm grew, then the other. Then his legs started to grow one by one until it was Georgie with the clown's body. Then the Georgie head fell off and the clown’s head grew into its place. The clown sat up and almost floated onto his feet. One of the boys started screaming “Kill it Bill, kill it.” I saw Bill point the bolt gun straight between the eyes of the clown.   
Bang. Nothing came out of the bolt gun. I was starting to think I should go help them when I saw the dent in the clown's skull. Fragments of its forehead fell off but instead of going down, it floated up. The clown tilted his head back and more and more blood flew straight up.   
I felt a pain under my left foot. I looked down and saw that I was standing on a toy jet. This used to be somebody’s, I thought, but now it is stuck in this shit hole forever. I decided to pocket it. I looked back at what was unfolding in what I think was a sewer. Pennywise now had Bill in his arms and was holding his chin like he was about to snap his neck.   
“Let him go,” the girl said as she backed up. I could hear the tremble in her voice. She was scared, like all of them, including me.  
“No, I’ll take him,” The clown paused. “I’ll take all of you. I’ll feast on your flesh as I feast on your fear.” He wagged his finger. The memories flooded back of when Pennywise and I first met after my father died. “Or, you’ll just leave us be. I will take him, only him and then I will have my long rest and you will all live to grow and thrive and lead happy lives.”   
My leg gave way and I fell on my arms in the place where I was hiding. I felt my face hit the wet pavement. I started getting a ringing in my ear. I put my hand over my ear and pushed. I looked back at what was happening to find that the Loser’s Club had started fighting IT again. I couldn’t hear anything but ringing, but I could see what was going on.  
Richie now had a bat. I saw Richie take the bat and smash the clown in the face with it. Then Mike tried swinging at the clown, but when Mike almost hit him, the clown opened his mouth and a bunch of charred arms came out of his mouth and grabbed Mike's pole. I felt something drip on my hand and looked up. It was coming from one of the kids. They were starting to float down. I looked back and saw that the clown was getting beat left and right by the kids. The clown stopped and turned towards one of the kids I didn’t know and spewed a green looking liquid. I saw him say something as he kicked the clown in the head making him fall backwards. I saw him turn into something else. It looked like a person. The girl in the group screamed and stuck the pole down the clown’s throat. The clown spit it out and started to crawl back.  
I saw the clown flip into what looked like an opening in the ground. I looked back up at the floating kids and saw that they had started to fall down more rapidly. My hearing was starting to come back. The ringing had stopped for now. I saw the Loser’s Club start to fall back. I heard them all sigh at once. I told myself, they won, they did it without you. You didn’t need to be here. But if I wasn't here I never would have known that the clown was dead. I would have lived the rest of my life in fear. I watched as Bill sat there crying with his brother's raincoat in his hands. I took the toy plane out of my pocket and turned it over in my hand. There was writing on the right wing. It read Timothy Jenkins 7. I could only guess that that meant that he was seven years old. He never got to finish elementary school. I decided to remember Timothy even though I had never met him. I met his soul here.   
I saw the Loser’s Club go out the same way they came. I could tell that they didn’t just win because they were stronger or faster. They won because they loved each other. How did my mom put it? “Love is the strongest thing on earth.” They all walked out holding each other. I saw Richie, and from when they were yelling, I think his name is Eddie, holding hands in the back of the line. I knew I would never have friends like that who loved each other and never wanted to let go. I cried a little as they were walking out, I was suddenly jealous of Bill, Richie, Ben, Stanley, Eddie, Mike, and the girl whose name I didn’t know. I was jealous that they had someone to love, whereas everyone I loved had been taken away from me.  
I got up from behind my cover and stretched my legs. I moved to the center of the room and looked up. More than 600 kids who would never have families started drifting down. I knew they were dead but a little bit of me hoped that maybe just one was still alive.  
I looked at where the clown had retreated to and peered down into the hole. I yelled down into the hole, “Welcome to Derry, Bitch.” I laughed. I was talking to a dead clown that was maybe 600 feet underground. My mind switched back to reality and my body went sad again. I didn’t have anywhere to go. No one to call family.  
“No. Welcome to Derry, Bitch.” I snapped out of my daze. I told myself that it was just my imagination. I started to bring my head out of the opening when the clown jumped out and with his sharp yellow fangs around my head pulled me into the darkness of the hole with him.  
Darkness. Complete and utter Darkness. 

Epilogue 

Floating. I’m like the clock now. I have one job. Floating. I have friends who also have one job. Floating. Every religion has their own theory of what happens to you after you die, but none include this. Floating.  
He ate me and took my soul, so now I'm floating. I tried to get away, but now I'm floating. I wanted to warn the Loser’s Club, but now I’m floating. I wanted to find an importance in life, but now I'm floating. I wanted to graduate college, but now I’m floating. I wanted to have a family, but now I’m floating.   
Float. The clown wasn't lying when he said that I would float. Floating is all I do now. I don’t get to see my family in the after life, or in heaven. My soul just floats inside the clown while my body joins the kids floating up. My mind feels awake, but I can’t move. I can’t blink or speak. I just float. Each and every day.   
I think he's coming to finish my soul. He bites and I'm gone. I see the light. I see my family waiting for me. The clown stops me and holds me still. I try floating up but I don’t go anywhere. I just float. Stuck in the middle of life and death. Staring at my family and where I would be if we never moved to Derry. Stuck in the middle forever.

Author’s note and Acknowledgments 

Stephen King said, “Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.” So some of you IT fans will notice that the timeline is off. I decided I wanted to make it a little more of my own. You may also notice that I choose to change the time frame in this from the movie. I also wanted to make that my own.  
I would like to thank my mom who gave me the idea and who read it every step of the way. My mom also gave me the idea to buy my first Stephen King book, “IT”. I would also like to thank my grandma, she did all the editing and gave me support through the whole book. She also lended a helping hand during all of it. (I’m sorry that I made you read the book). My biggest thanks goes out to Stephen King who changed me for the better. Also I would like to thank Andy Muschietti for giving the world the masterpiece of a movie IT. Next, I would like to thank everyone who read this book, thank you for floating with me. This book has taught me that I can write. Before this book I would maybe get 3 pages in and give up; it has taught me that writing can be fun and that it's something that I love to do. This is definitely not the only book I will write. And lastly, I am glad to call myself an IT fanatic.


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